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As Walker Gibson looks at her, then at the damage to his precious truck (that
she may or may not have accidentally inflicted), she knows she’s in trouble.
It’s not the busted headlight and dented grill that’s sunk her though. It’s the
downright sinful man in front of her that’s the problem.

The small town mechanic is broody. Rough. Smells like engine grease and
gasoline and Sienna isn’t sure why that’s so sexy, but it is. It so is. She’s
ready to peel off her panties at the drop of his wrench.

He wants her too. She can feel it when he brushes against her. Experience it as
he presses her against the wall of the shop. It’s thinly veiled in his deep,
brown eyes when he looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted. So why
won’t he give in?

The damage to Walker’s truck is the first of many mistakes between the two of
them, ending with truths that rock Sienna’s world. Nothing can fix her broken
heart except the love of a man that won’t, maybe even can’t, love her back.

Crank is a standalone romance in a new small town, blue-collar series from USA
Today bestselling author Adriana Locke. Join readers everywhere as they fall in
love with the delicious Gibson Boys.

USA Today
and Amazon Top 10 Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books.
After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys
created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.

She resides
in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount
of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her
outside if the weather's nice and there's always a piece of candy in her
pocket.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Synopsis

The IslandWelcome to the island. This is no fantasy.You’ll face fears. You’ll face travesty. You’ll face yourself.One deserted island.Two heinous crimes.Two convicted hearts.When decent people do bad things, there’s only one place for forgiveness:Redemption Island.The island knows what you’ve done.

Giveaway

About the Author

Avid drinker of Coca-Cola, L.B. Dunbar loves the sweet things in life. Her affair with all things romantic began with her first book at the tender age of six: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. One can never forget her first! From there, the reading journey includes a deep love of fairy tales, medieval knights, regency debauchery, and alpha males. She loves a deep belly laugh and a strong hug. Occasionally, she has the energy of a Jack Russell terrier. Accused, yes, that’s the correct word, of having an over active imagination; to her benefit, such an imagination works well. Author of over a dozen novels, she’s created small town worlds, rock star mayhem, and MMA chaos. Her other duties in life include: mother to four growing children and wife to the one and only.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

People say not to believe the things you read
in magazines, but you know what? Most things you’ve heard about me are probably
true.

I totally banged the reporter in the locker
room after the championship game last year.

Those pictures in Expose from last summer?
Those were not modified.

I’m also not really six-foot tall. (But let’s
keep that between us.)

Now, I know you’re wondering about that last
Expose headline—the one about me and my teammate (and ex-best friend) Finn
Miller’s sister, Layla James. That one is a little more complicated.

Here’s the thing: I’ve played football my
whole life. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to adjust when the game
changes. And if there’s one thing I always do, it’s find a way to win.

Granted, the stakes are higher. The playbook
has changed. There’s more on the line than (another) MVP title. But guess what
hasn’t changed? Me. I’m still Branch “Lucky” Best and I’m not about to fumble
this one.

Grab a seat and a subscription to Expose. I’m
about to make some headlines. (Again.)

Holy Wow. Adriana does it again what an awesome story. I loved Branch and Layla. They have an unique story. Will he risk the bromance with her brother to find something he never knew he was missing.

I see the rest of this collection are by different authors that I can't wait to read.

I received and voluntary reviewed an ARC of this book. This book was read and reviewed by Stacy Aube for Cutting Muse Blog Review.

🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈~🏈

Author Bio

USA Today
and Amazon Top 10 Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books.
After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys
created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.

She resides
in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount
of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her
outside if the weather's nice and there's always a piece of candy in her
pocket.

Dear Bridget,

I’m writing this letter because it’s highly doubtful I’ll ever garner the courage to say this to your face.

So, here goes.

We’re totally wrong for each other. You’re the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I’m just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England.

But here’s the thing… for some bloody reason, I can’t stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.

I want you.

The only reason I’m even admitting all of this to you right now is because I don’t believe it’s one-sided. I notice your eyes when you look at me, too. And as crass as I appear when we’re joking around about sex, my attraction to you is not a joke.

So, what’s the purpose of this note? I guess it’s a reminder that we’re adults, that sex is healthy and natural, and that you can find me just through the door past the kitchen. More specifically, it’s to let you know that I’m leaving said door cracked open from now on in case you’d like to visit me in the middle of the night sometime.

No questions asked.

Think about it.

Or don’t.

Whatever you choose.

It’s doubtful I’ll even end up sliding this letter under your door anyway.

Every time I considered leaving my room, I would grab the framed picture of Ben and stare at it. The urge to go to Simon was so strong; I basically hadn’t put down the framed photo of my deceased husband in an hour. I was lying in my bed, holding a picture of a dead man while fantasizing about one who was very much alive and in the other room. With the door cracked open waiting for me. There was one part of Simon’s note that I just kept reading over and over.

I want to make you come. Hard. I want you to get lost in me and I want to hear you say my name over and over while we fuck.

While we fuck.

While we fuck.

I was pretty sure that Ben had never used the word fuck like that before. Did we even fuck? We made love, sure. Our sex life was normal—at least, I think it was normal. Don’t get me wrong, the passion wasn’t the same as when we first got together. But after ten years, both of us working full time and raising a child, it was normal to have some of the desire dwindle, wasn’t it?

While we fuck.

I looked at the picture of my husband and sighed. We didn’t fuck. Not even in the beginning. And I felt guilty for that now. Maybe we should have been fucking. I certainly didn’t do anything to entice him to want me the last few years. Was it my fault our sex life had gotten boring? I rested the picture of Ben over my heart and laid my hand over it. I could feel my heart beating out of control beneath my fingers.

Shutting my eyes, I tried to force thoughts of Simon from my mind. But it was no use. Visions of his hard, sculpted body hovering over me had infiltrated my brain. So, here I was, a thirty-three-year-old, single mother lying in my bed all alone with a picture of my dead husband held to my heart while I visualized fucking another man.

Fucking.

Not making love.

I needed my head examined.

After two hours and no sleep in sight, I decided the only way I was going to be able to get any rest was if I got everything I was feeling off of my chest. Flicking on the light, I carefully set the framed photo of my beloved Ben on my nightstand and then opened the drawer and dug out a pen and piece of pretty stationery. I would write down my thoughts to clear my mind. I had no intention of actually giving the letter to Simon, so there was no reason to filter anything I said.

Dear Simon…

★★★★

We hope you enjoyed this preview!

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author of thirteen novels. With over a million books sold, her titles have placed on the New York Times Bestseller list seventeen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband, and kids reside in Rhode Island.
Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Website |Twitter | Instagram Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times Bestselling author. With more than a million and a half books sold, her titles have appeared in over eighty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in seventeen languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Billionaire
businessman Alejandro Cruz detests the dating process and is perfectly content
to stay single. But that all changes the moment the quirky house sitter from
next door falls into his arms, and his immediate instinct is to hold on tight
and never let go. California girl Kaya Porter has a "just say no"
approach to dating. No matter how sexy and irresistible Alejandro is, she vows
not to fall for him. Alejandro has other plans. This sexy Spaniard knows what
he wants, and there's nothing he won't do to make Kaya realize that they belong
together. Will Alejandro get the girl or will he be left wanting more than Kaya
is willing to give?

I Want is book two
of the Enamorado (In Love) series. Each book will feature one of the Cruz
brothers and can be read as a standalone.

“Climb gates around here often?” he asked, no censure in his voice. I realized he spoke English as fluently as he spoke Spanish.

He was clad in navy basketball shorts, a pair of Nike running shoes and he was just sweaty enough for me to realize he’d likely been working out. I swear I was hypnotized by all of his exposed skin, so much so that I could just about remember my own name at that moment. I’d have blamed the fall for my dazed and confused frame of mind but that wasn’t it at all. It was purely because of him—the sexy Spanish-speaking god who’d saved me from certain harm. My eyes trailed along his muscular but lean body hungrily as I catalogued just how ridiculously gorgeous he was. I was hypnotized by his six-pack and the set of V-cut muscles I had an insane urge to trail my fingers over.

I’d have kept right on staring had he not cleared his throat. I cringed as I came back to reality and realized he’d asked a question I hadn’t retained.

“Um, huh?” I asked, perfectly clueless.

“I was asking if you’re a professional gate climber,” he said huskily.

“No, I—”

“She’s really fine after a fall from that height?” the officer asked as he came through the gate.

“She never hit the ground,” my savior said, “since I caught her.”

The cop looked almost as impressed as I felt. I’d have heaped praised onto the stranger who saved me had I not remembered that I needed to be focused on a more pressing concern.

“So now that I’m on this side I really need to get my—”

The officer pinned me with a look that left no doubt that he was in charge. “Miss, please remain silent while I work out what’s going on here.”

I pursed my lips and tried to contain my annoyance. I knew he was just doing his job but all I cared about was finding Elvis.

The officer turned back to the Spanish model—I naturally assumed he modeled because he looked like he belonged in sensual looking black and white ads for men’s cologne. You know the kind of ads I’m talking about, right? There’s always a sexy guy giving you the let’s have all the sex look with a set of eyes that are clearly attempting to hypnotize you into buying something.

He was at least six feet tall and had a head full of thick, dark hair. His face was perfectly proportioned from forehead to chin, and I could find nothing that didn't appear to be symmetrical. He had a ridiculously sexy closely trimmed beard that I wanted to trace with my fingers and his jaw was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I turned crimson when my eyes trailed up and met his and I realized he was observing me—which meant he knew I’d been staring at him. Again.

I bit my lip and tried not to blush as I blinked like an idiot. I was relieved to have a reason to look to the police officer when he cleared his throat to get our attention. “Are you the one who called about the disturbance down the side of the house?” he asked.

I couldn’t resist the urge to let my eyes wander back to the Spanish god. I knew just enough Spanish to determine that if his looks were rated on the salsa scale he’d be called el más caliente.

His eyes were on me as he answered the cop. “My brother called, yes.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Alejandro Cruz.”

Even his name was sexy. My skin felt hot and prickly under his gaze. Anxious for a reprieve, I looked back to the officer.

The cop nodded as he took note of it on his pad. “And your brother's name?”

“Rafael Cruz.”

“And you?” the cop asked with a head nod toward me.

“Kaya Porter.”

“Can you spell that?”

“K-a-y-a,” I answered.

“That’s a weird name,” the officer said as he wrote it down.

I wasn't sure if he was being rude or not so I shrugged and said nothing. Alejandro growled something under his breath that I couldn’t understand. A shiver went down my back at the way the words rolled off his tongue. His Spanish accent fascinated me. I’d never been one to care one way or the other about a man’s voice, but his did things to me. I wondered if audio erotica was a thing. If it were, I would pay a subscription fee to hear him talk all day.

“So were you trying to escape or get in?” the officer asked, ruining my good fantasy about an Alejandro Cruz dirty talk subscription service.

“I was trying to get in,” I answered stiffly, annoyed that the officer had already forgotten everything I’d said, “I told you—”

“No, no, she is not the disturbance,” Alejandro interjected. “My brother thought someone was trying to steal God only knows what from the exterior of the house. He was asleep and heard something outside his bedroom window and panicked. He shouldn’t have called the police—it’s animal control that we need. Some dickhead bird went through the trash that my brother forgot to secure and he’s been leading him on one hell of a chase around the yard.”

My eyes narrowed and my hands went to my hips as I stared down the model. “Don’t talk about my little buddy like that,” I snapped.

Ella Fox is the USA Today Bestselling Author of The Hart
Family Series, Consequences of Deception, The Catch Series and The Renegade
Series. When she’s not writing, Ella indulges the gypsy in her blood and
travels the country. Ella loves reading, movies, music, buying make-up, reading
Tmz, Twitter and pedicures… not necessarily in that order. She has a wild sense
of humor and loves to laugh. Her favorite thing in the world is hanging out
with her family and watching comedy movies.